


Day 3 - Compassion

by a_verysmallviolet



Series: Korra Appreciation Week 2015 [3]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-03-11 17:17:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3331859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_verysmallviolet/pseuds/a_verysmallviolet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the North, Korra has a conversation with her aunt that has been three years in coming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day 3 - Compassion

Foreign visitors to the Northern capitol are always surprised to find gardens. Here and there are a few greenhouses, maintained at incredible cost and jealously cherished. But the Water Tribes have their own gardens as well. In place of greenery, they use stone and water to create landscapes that are stark and spare, and the equal of any in the Earth Kingdom or Fire Nation. Naturally, the palace’s gardens are the finest. Korra, ill at ease in any sort of finery, escapes to them whenever possible.

Today she’s been lucky. In her ramblings about the palace, she’s stumbled onto a new courtyard, one she’s never seen before. Wonder and simple pleasure keep her silent as she wanders the paths. Huge, mist-thin panes of ice, arranged to catch and magnify the sunset or phases of the moon, rear up at intervals. Other ice sculptures swirl and crest in abstract forms that lead the eye from place to place seamlessly. Stones by the path are laid so the water running over them trickles musically, or else sweep out themselves in imitation of a flowing current. Deep in the heart of the palace, the only sounds are running water and the wind singing through the ice.

At length Korra comes to the center of the garden. Here, pebbles have been arranged underfoot into a semblance of Tui and La, iridescently pale for Tui and velvety black for La. Korra seats herself on a bench in an alcove, breathing in the subtle smell of water.

“My niece. I did not expect to find you here.”

Korra rises to her feet. “Aunt Malina.”

A tall woman in indigo and deep violet, sleek hair falling satin-smooth against her shoulders, returns her gaze coolly. Neither of them bows. As wife to one chief and mother to two more, Malina’s status in the North Pole is second only to Eska and Desna’s. As the Avatar, Korra is beyond human rank.

Without speaking, they fall into step together around the ice garden, Korra’s boots crunching over the snow, Malina’s passing marked only by the soft drag of her robes. As Korra glances sideways at her, she can see the twins in her thin lips and slightly upturned nose. At each step, the looped braids sway gently against her cheek.

“This garden is beautiful,” Korra says at last. “I’m surprised I never saw it before.”

“Mm.” Malina’s eyes are fixed thoughtfully on the polished stones edging the path. “It was my husband’s garden.”

Korra stops short, and Malina does too. They are standing now at the head of the pebble arrangement, where La’s dark head just brushes against Tui’s white tail.

“Aunt.” Korra pauses. “I never got the chance to say this. But…I’m sorry about what happened to Uncle Unalaq.”

Blue eyes lift to meet hers. “Why?” Malina’s voice is almost too soft, too silvery calm. “It was his decision to fuse with Vaatu and become the Dark Avatar. He would have brought an end to Raava. No one blames you for what you did.”

“But he was also my uncle, and your husband, and a father to Eska and Desna.” Korra gestures around them. “I’ve seen his library – and this garden, like you said. He was…he was more than what he became, in the end. He did what he thought was right.”

Malina lifts thin brows. “You have given this much thought.”

Korra shrugs without accepting or denying the comment. Glancing down for a moment, Malina brushes her fingers against a rose of ice, meltwater clinging to her fingertips from even that brief touch after she draws away. Then she lifts her eyes back to Korra’s. Silver edges every intonation of her voice.

“Tell me, do you deny that to preserve the world, it was necessary that he die?”

“No.” Korra meets her aunt’s eyes squarely. “But that doesn’t mean he deserved it.”

Malina continues to look back at her steadily, but Korra sees the dark lashes flutter, swift as a butterfly’s wings. It takes a moment for the other woman to speak.

“Thank you. Already I knew this, but…regardless. Thank you.”

The delicate lips quiver suddenly, and she presses them tightly together to still them. Her lids flicker and fall.

Korra takes a step to close the distance between them and lays a hand on her aunt’s shoulder. After a moment, Malina lays her own hand over hers. Her fingertips, though light and soft as breath, are warm.

Avatar and widow, niece and aunt stand together like that for some time. Korra half-expects to hear spirits brushing by, or glimpse a tall figure passing through the ice. But this is the heart of the palace, and the only sound is the wind singing up into the sky.


End file.
